Max's MiniStory
by Maxx0721
Summary: Just a little random something I wrote nearly 5 years ago. Sort of an intro to my own character, Maxine. Yes, I create OCs. So no, this doesn't follow canon.    Nonetheless! Please enjoy!


**Disclaimer: Everything (except Max) is the property of the wonderful J.K. Rowling. I am merely messing around in her amazing creation. Thank you Mrs. Rowling for being a literary genius!**

**AN: The first half of this story comes directly from a dream I had. I wrote it down as I remembered it and didn't change it much, so it's gonna be a little vagueish… I revamped it a bit so that it reads better, but please, keep in mind that it was a dream so it will read like a dream. Broken, undescriptive, and slightly scatterbrained due to a bad memory….^_^ Otherwise, please enjoy!^_^**

* * *

what is your heart?  
not the thing that beats inside your chest telling the world you're alive, but the thing that never fails to tell you when he's near and speeds up whenever you see him walking towards you.  
that thing...  
what is it, really?  
it doesn't show up in x-rays and not even magic can find it...  
is it just a figment of the imagination?  
does it even exist?  
is it just your brain talking to its self?  
persuading you to act like a giddy fool whenever he touches your arm.  
sending shivers of warmth through your body when he holds you close.  
raises goose bumps on your skin when he whispers in your ear...  
does the thing called a heart control that?  
or is it all just a wonderfully magical dream?  
part of you says that you need to shut up and just follow this wonderful feeling...  
but the other half of you keeps saying that it's just a trick.  
it's not going to last.  
it's all going to fall apart.  
crash down around you and leave you in a huddled, sobbing mass on the floor.  
you think about how horrid that sounds.  
that the best and easiest way to avoid that terrible situation is to just steer clear of him.  
ignore him.  
don't let him bury himself in your soul...  
but then you think of his messy black hair that never seems to lie flat...  
how adorable it is to watch him try to get it into something more 'respectable' looking as you walk up to him...  
how red his face gets because he thinks he looks absolutely terrible...  
but you don't mind.  
you just walk up and wrap your arms around his neck and hug him like you never want to let go...  
and you don't...  
if it were up to you, you'd stay there in his arms forever.  
forever and ever and ever...  
stop!  
don't think like that!  
that's just going to get you into trouble...  
he'll get bored.  
he'll see some other girl walk by and all thoughts of you will be wiped from his mind.  
he'll leave you broken and shattered and dead inside...  
you don't want to end up there!  
stop these feelings before they start!  
but they have started...  
and there's no stopping them...  
that thing you call a heart has hypnotized you and is leading you into what the voice called your conscience has named the death of your soul...  
but how could he possibly destroy you?  
there's just no way he'd do that...  
you can see it in his eyes...  
his beautiful, unique, emerald green eyes...  
every time he looks at you...  
in the halls...  
in your classes...  
at meals and every other time you're in the same room together...  
those wonderful eyes are always filled with heat...  
passion...  
adoration...  
caring...  
devotion...  
and...  
dare you say it?  
love...  
you could see it...  
it was always there...  
and he never tried to hide it.  
he wants you to know.  
he wants you to know he loves you...  
he wants to tell you every time he embraces you...  
you can see the strain in his expression...  
the only give away to the internal battle raging inside of him.  
but for some reason he never seems to gather the courage to just say how he feels.  
but you can see it.  
you can see it in everything he does...  
he's trying to get you to see it through his emotions and actions 'cause he can't voice his feelings...  
everything he does sends butterflies fluttering around your insides and turns you into a happy smiling fool.  
every look...  
every smile...  
every touch...  
everything.  
if the thing that people call a heart really does exist, then it would probably feel like this...  
happy and giddy and absolutely wonderful.

* * *

The alarm clock sounded through the room, waking me from my reverie. That had to have been the oddest dream I've ever had. But such a wonderful one as well… I turned over and shut off the loud music erupting from the alarm, then flipped onto my back and looked up at the canopy above my head.

"Do you really have to set that thing so early, Max? And on a Saturday?" Lavender was sitting up in her bed and giving me what she must have thought was an angry glare. To me, however, she just looked pitiful.

"O, let her be, Lav. It's ten-o-clock. That's not that early." Parvati stepped out of her bed and headed for the bathroom. Even though she stood up for me, she didn't look too happy about the alarm, either. Crazy girls and their so-called beauty rest. You're sixteen now. Get over it. With all the work the professors are loading on, you should want to get up and spend as much time having fun on a Saturday as you can get. At least, that's what I thought.

"Ten already?" Hermione sat up yawning. She didn't get to bed 'till late last night. Her and her studying. She needs to take a break once in a while.

"Yeah, it's ten. How could you tell?" I sat up and summoned my wardrobe board from my bag. It hovered in front of me, the outline of a mannequin sketched on it with every color known to man off on the left hand side.

"Well, the traditional morning argument had absolutely nothing to do with it," said Hermione. Even right after waking up she could still berate anybody for misbehaving. Ron was right: She is mental.

"Well if she wouldn't set that alarm so goddamn early, there wouldn't be an argument!" Lovely girl that Lavender Brown. She was all sunshine and daisies during the day, but wake her up at ten in the morning on a Saturday...

"Calm down, Lavender. You can always go back to sleep." Hermione slid out of bed and grabbed a pair of jeans and a t-shirt from her trunk. "Honestly." She walked off towards the bathroom, a small smile playing at her lips.

Ever since Ron and Lavender had broken up, anything that rankled Lavender even the tiniest bit was relatively fine with Hermione. Which meant that every Saturday and Sunday, my alarm would never fail to pull the girl from her dreamland in which she seemed so desperate to stay.

"Fine then," Lavender mumbled to Hermione's retreating form. "I'll just go back to sleep." And with that, she pulled the scarlet covers over her head and roughly pulled her curtains shut. Hopefully, she wouldn't come out for a long time.

I turned my attention back to the wardrobe board hovering before my face. It was Saturday. A day for lazing around in the comfiest outfit you could dream up. My mind went to work, designing the shape, colour and texture of everything I would wear today. I sketched the outline of a pair of loose sweat pants onto the board. I filled them in black and drew little gold snitches all over them. Cute! They match the tattoo on my chest! A tank top that would undoubtedly show off a good bit of my stomach was drawn on the mannequin next. I cut the neckline a little lower so that my tattoo would show and colored it in black. Sure the whole thing seems sort of Hufflepuffie, but I just don't feel like wearing red today.

I materialized my finished outfit onto my bed and drew my curtains. Grabbing the bottom of my nightshirt, I pulled it over my head and threw it into the air where it disappeared. I pulled on my sweats and tank top, conjured up a mirror and pulled my hair back into a half-pony tail. I'm goin' barefoot today.

I opened my curtains and slid off my bed. My feet met the cold stone floor, sending a shiver through my spine. At least it'll be warm outside. After performing a quick dental hygiene spell so that my teeth were all bright and shiny, I walked out the dormitory door and down the staircase to the common room.

It was empty. Odd. Usually, there were a bunch of people in here by now. Well, at least the sofa was unoccupied. I plopped down on my side and slipped my hand under the pillow my head was on. So comfy. Comfy, comfy, comfy. Saturdays rule. I shut my eyes and listened to the stillness of the room. Quiet. Quiet and comfy. Sheer bliss.

"Budge up, will ya," said an all too familiar voice beside me. I felt a hand lift up my pillow so that its owner could sit down. Then the pillow was set back down against the person's leg and their arm came down to rest on my neck, comfortably sitting between my shoulder and jaw.

"Morning, Harry," I said without opening my eyes. His hand went under my jaw and tilted my head up. I opened my eyes to see his beautiful emerald green ones looking back at me.

"Morning, love," he said. Then he bent down and kissed me on the forehead. I shut my eyes again and relaxed under his touch. Memories from my dream rushed back to me. Everything about how much I knew he loved me and how happy I got every time he was around. Having my pulse quicken and the feeling of butterflies in my stomach.

And the horrible thought that he would leave me. Leave me on the floor in a crumbled, broken mess, longing for him to take back the things he'd said...

I opened my eyes again and sat up to look him in the face. He turned towards me, worry showing in his eyes. I'd never pulled away from him before.

"You alright, Max? You look scared." The love, caring, and concern in his expression wiped every doubt from my mind. He would never leave me. He would never hurt me. How could I even think that he'd do that to me? He wouldn't. Never.

"I'm fine," I said as I smiled at him. I laid back down, my head on the pillow, his arm around me. He took my hand up in his and squeezed it, his other hand twirling my hair around his fingers. "I'm perfectly fine."

And the thing called my heart whole-heartedly agreed with me.

* * *

**This was a short story I wrote nearly five years ago. It's an introduction to my own character, Maxine. Well, sorta an introduction. More like I was writting her story, and then this little scene popped into my head, but I had nowhere to put it. A few days later I jotted down one of my psychologic rambles and deemed it good enough to type up. Eventually, the ramble became Max's dream and viola! Mini-story! So yeah... This story has been waiting to be read for years, so I hope you all like it!^_^**


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